boy when you know (you'll know)
by carpenoctem22
Summary: It hits him halfway through a bite of the greasy, over-priced pizza slice he'd stood in line an hour for at the fair - not the realization that he loves her. No, that one he knows. This realization is a lot more terrifying to think about. (Or, Dipper gets hit by a truck. Metaphorically.)


**So this is part assurance that I'm not dead, part a kickstart to get me back writing, and part utter sappy-ness I'm writing as comfort. Hopefully I'll be back to writing more soon.**

* * *

It hits him halfway through a bite of the greasy, over-priced pizza slice he'd stood in line for an hour for at the fair, surrounded by screaming kids and the one poor guy behind the drink stand vomiting after one too many rides that they're trying to ignore.

Pacifica is shivering despite the multiple layers she has on, Mabel's atrocity of a knitted hat jammed over her normally pristine hair, now frizzy and tangled from the ride. Her eyes are watering from the cold, mascara smudging ever so slightly at the corner of her right eye, and her cheeks are bright red, her nose matching as she sniffs every five seconds in a vain attempt to deny the lingering cold she has. Her hands, dry and chapped from the cold, tremble slightly as she struggles with her slice of pizza, trying in vain to catch the trailing strands of cheese with her teeth before they drip onto the too-large windbreaker she's borrowed from Dipper.

She's the most beautiful thing Dipper's ever seen.

She finally gives up on the pizza, huffing in exasperation as she flicks cheese off her with a bright pink fingernail. She turns to him, shaking where she sits but flushed with excitement from the surrounding fair. "Staring much?" she asks, through chattering teeth. Realizing with a start that he's still mid-bite, Dipper sputters, cheeks heating as he tries not to choke to death on the offending bite of pizza. Pacifica just laughs, leaning in to flick tomato sauce off his cheek. "Breathe, dork," she says, grinning. "What do you want to do next?"

 _Marry you_ , pops, unbidden, into Dipper's mind.

Oh.

Well.

 _Well._

If he somewhat resembles a limp fish as Pacifica pulls him towards he house of mirrors, she doesn't mention it.

Not that Dipper's one to pursue something he's got his mind on with a reckless intensity that _will get you into trouble someday, but god help anyone in your path_ – but he kind of is one to pursue what he wants with a reckless intensity, god help anyone in his path.

So.

* * *

"I have something to tell you."

"Hot Belgian waffles, here we go again."

"Dipper, son, we're all very proud of you for getting into that graduate school, but you've made it quite clear-"

"Waddles, tell Dipper he's not allowed to talk about any kind of school until the holidays are over!"

"That's _not_ about my graduate program, thank you _so much_ for the support," Dipper bites out, glaring at the three family members sitting on the couch, midway through a Ducktective marathon. Ford is giving him half his attention, if somewhat pitying, from where he's seated on the couch. Mabel, seated next to him and trying in vain to fit Waddles on the couch, remains intently focused on her notepad, the first sketches of a brightly colored dress coming to life. Stan, as usual, is ignoring him completely.

"Then is it about those kids stirring up rumors about the Cipher Hunt again? Because you know exactly what happened to that statue, Dipper, and you know full well-"

"No, no," Dipper says, exasperated. "It's about-"

"You didn't get into trouble for writing 'incendiary, subversive literature aimed to corrupt the minds of the young' again, did you?"

" _No_ , that was my _history_ report and it was covering the – never mind, look, I just wanted to ask-"

"You're not moving to Alaska, are you?" Mabel asks, squinting up at him. "Because I covered for you when Dad thought you were gonna sail off and become a hermit so you can't go making me look like a liar-"

Dipper slams his wallet down on the coffee table, startling the three and effectively silencing them.

"This," he says. "Is money. With which I am going to buy a ring. To ask Pacifica to marry me with, and I am completely, un-ironically and un-sarcastically asking for help."

If he'd thought he'd silenced them before, he'd clearly overstated their reaction. _This_ , this was effectively silencing them.

"Please," he adds, feeling his cheeks heat.

" _DIPP-ERRRRR!"_ Mabel is the firsts up, tackling him in a blinding bundle of sweater and sugar and shrieking joy.

Stan is next, pulling the two into his larger embrace, not even trying to disguise his blinding smile. Ford completes the hug sandwich, looking somewhat stunned but just as happy as he attacks from the other side.

"MARRIAGE!" Mabel shrieks, squishing his face between her hands and shaking him. "My baby brother! Married! Ah!"

Dipper breaks into laughter, mimicking her and squishing her cheeks. "I kinda need help picking out the ring," he says, somewhat mangled through his abused cheeks. "Know anyone with sparkling taste in fashion?"

"Oh, you've done it now, kid," Stan says, grinning. Mabel, however, has transcended to another state of being.

" _RING! A RING!"_ She shakes him harder. "Ohmygoshohmygosh Dipper! You have to tell mom and dad! You have to tell Wendy! And Soos! And Candy and Grenda and Pacifica-"

" _No!_ " Comes the panicked, three-voiced shout at Mabel's last statement.

"Oh yeah," she says, frowning. "Mayyyybe not tell Pacifica."

" _Please._ "

"You got it, bro-bro!" she says. "Anything you need, I'm your woman! This is gonna be the best proposal ever! Ever, ever, ever, better than any movie proposal _ever_ , it's gonna be _perfect_ , you're gonna have a beautiful wedding and beautiful kids and a beautiful house and-"

"Okay, okay, slow down," Dipper says, grabbing her shoulders. "She hasn't even said yes yet!"

He receives three equally cutting looks.

"Please," Stan snorts. "If she turns you down, I'll be an honest businessman. Pacifica loves you to death, kid. You got no worries."

Dipper flushes, smiling tentatively. "You think so?"

"Oh for crying out loud, you're sappier than your Uncle Ford on _The Duchess Approves_ finale-"

"Hey! It was well-written with meaningful relationships, and a true understanding of our innate humanity-"

" _Anyways_ , I know so, kid. Trust me."

Dipper's smile is starting to hurt with how large it's growing.

"Okay, so I definitely get why I can't tell everyone, but can I _at least_ tell Wendy? I mean, she's family, too!"

"Not just yet, okay, Mabes?" Dipper says. "I wanna keep it on the down-low for now. Just until I've got the actual ring."

"Blargh, okay, fine," Mabel huffs. "I'll do my best."

* * *

Dipper is rudely interrupted from his research-project-turned-Ghost-Hunters-marathon at one am by the chirping of his phone around one am. He glances briefly at the caller ID before flipping it open.

"Wendy?"

" _Hey, Dip,"_ her voice filters through the phone. _"Wanna grab lunch and catch up tomorrow? I've got the day off work, so-"_

Dipper sighs. "Mabel told you, didn't she?"

There's a pause. _"…I mean, okay, dude, but what did you expect?"_

He sighs again. "Alright, alright. Tell me everything I'm gonna do wrong."

" _Well, for starters, you aren't gonna get anywhere with that pessimistic attitude-"_


End file.
